‘alā qadri ’ahli l-‘azmi ta’tī l-‘azā’imū |
wa-ta’tī ‘alā qadri l-kirāmi l-makārimū |
wa-ta‘ẓumu fī ‘ayni ṣ-ṣaghīri ṣighāruhā |
wa-taṣghuru fī ‘ayni l-‘aẓīmi l-‘aẓā’imū205 |
Meter (al-ṭawīl): SLX SLLL SLX SLSL / SLX SLLL SLX SLSL.
Abū lṬayyib Aḥmad ibn al-Ḥusayn (ca. 303/915–354/365), nicknamed al-Mutanabbī (“the would-be prophet”) for a youthful escapade, is generally considered (especially by Arabs) as the greatest Arabic poet in Islamic times. He excelled in panegyric odes, such as the famous Sayfiyyāt dedicated to the Ḥamdānid ruler Sayf al-Dawlah who regularly campaigned against the Byzantines. Although qaṣīdahs normally begin with a nasīb or some kind of lyrical introduction, it was customary to omit this in congratulatory poems and victory odes such as the following.206
Firm resolutions happen in proportion to the resolute,
and noble deeds come in proportion to the noble.
Small deeds are great in small men’s eyes,
great deeds, in great men’s eyes, are small.
Sayf al-Dawlah charges the army with the burden of his zeal,
which large hosts are not strong enough to bear,
And he demands of men what only he can do—
even lions do not claim as much.
The longest-living birds, the desert vultures, young and old,
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offer themselves as ransom for his arms.207
It would not harm them had they been created without claws:
his swords have been created and their hilts.
Does “Red” al-Ḥadath know its color, does it know
which of the two wine-pourers was the clouds?208
White clouds have watered it before he came,
and then, when he drew near, the skulls drenched it again.
He built it, raised it high, while shaft beat against shaft,
and waves of Doom clashed all around.
Possessed by some demonic madness, it was decked
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with corpses of the slain, as charms and amulets.
Driven off by Fate it was: but you restored it to the Faith,
with Khaṭṭī lances, in spite of Fate.209
You force the Nights210 to give up all you seize
and if they seize from you they must repay.
If what you plan is an imperfect verb it is
past tense before preventing prefixes can be attached.211
How can the Byzantines and Russians212 hope to raze the place
when it is propped by lance thrusts as its pillars and its base?
To court they took it, with the Fates as judges, but
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the wronged ones did not die, nor any wrong-doer live.
They came to you, trailing their steel, as though
they rode by night on horses without feet.
Brightly they shone; their white swords could not be distinguished from
their clothing and their head gear, all alike of steel;
An army crawling forth from east and west,
its din, cacaphonous, reaching Orion’s ears;
Each tongue, each nation gathered there:
only interpreters could make the speakers understood.
Ah, what a time! Its fire melted the counterfeit as dross
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and only left sharp swords and warriors like lions.
A sword that could not cut a mail-coat or a spear was cut itself,
a warrior who would not fight his foe would flee.
You stood your ground when standing firm seemed certain death,
as though you were in Death’s eye, Death being asleep.
The warriors passed by you, wounded, routed, but
your face shone brightly, your mouth smiled.
You passed beyond the bounds of courage and of intellect:
they said that you had knowledge of the supernatural.
You pressed their wings upon the heart, so that
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the coverts213 and the primaries were dying under it,
With blows that struck the skulls when victory was distant,
and then struck breasts, as victory advanced.
Despising the Rudaynī spears,214 you flung them far away:
it was as if the sword reviled the spear.
Whoever wishes to unlock a glorious victory,
its keys are light, bright, cutting swords.215
You scattered them all over al-Uḥaydib,216 just
like dirhams strewn over a bride.
Your horses trampled birds’ nests on the hilltops, but
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plenty of food was left there round the nests!
The eaglets thought that you had brought their mothers back:
they were in fact your noble sturdy steeds.
Whenever horses slipped you made them walk upon
their bellies, just as speckled snakes crawl on the earth.
Will this “Domesticus” advance upon you every day,
his neck blaming his face for his advance?217
Does he not know the lion’s scent before he gets a taste of it?
Dumb beasts know well the lion’s scent!
The brutal onslaughts of our leader hit him hard:
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his son, his brother-in-law and his son, all killed.
He left, thanking his troops for his escape from the sharp swords,
that were too busy dealing with their heads and limbs.
He understood the speech of swords from Mashraf218 to his troops,
even though they speak a foreign speech.
He was so glad with what he gave to you, not out of ignorance,
but by escaping with such losses, gaining life as spoils of war.219
And you are not a king who routs his rival: you
are Monotheist Faith that routs Polytheism,
In whom not just Rabī‘ah are ennobled but all Arabs of ‘Adnān,220
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in whom not just the frontier towns but all the world takes pride.
Yours is the praise due for these pearls that I am uttering:
you are their giver, I am merely stringing them.221
Your gifts gallop with me into the din of war;222
I earn no blame and you have no regrets
Of giving any horse that flies into the fray, yet on its feet,
as soon as it can hear the battle cries.
O Sword never to be sheathed, in whom there is no doubt,
from whom no one can ever be protected:
Let there be joy to smiting heads, to glory, and high deeds,
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to all who hope Islam and you are safe!
Why should the Merciful not guard your cutting edges as before,
so that through you He will forever cleave the heads of foes!